I Hope You Dance
by thekeeperofwords
Summary: After giving birth, Mel becomes weak and the healer tells Vidanric that she won't recover. Mel tells Danric her parting wishes, but her death leaves his desolated. Will he fulfill her promises? sad songfic


(A/n: My first Sherwood Smith ficcie! Hopefully several more to come, once I finish up some other stories…I always do this! I just hope the others get finished. Teen Parents has a fighting chance, thought. Anyway, Vidanric and Mel are my all-time favorite couple…Because the ones I want actually get married *cough Jon and Alanna cough*. So, I was on vacation, reading Vidanric's Birthday Surprise for the millionth time, when this song came on. Sad, I know, but I had to write it. I'm not sure whether or not to call it a songfic because I'm not sure if I'm going to put all of the song in there. The song is "I Hope You Dance" by Lee Ann Womack. As always, read, enjoy --in this case, cry-- and review! Oh…And I just realized that it doesn't follow the regular Sherwood Smith style of having it from someone's POV. Oops.)

Vidanric paced outside the birthing room, listening to his wife, Meliara, scream and groan as she gave birth. Already he had waited two hours, sitting outside these doors miserably. He approached the large woman that guarded the door.

"Please, I need to see her," he reasoned calmly. She shook her head, shaking sweat-soaked strands of brown hair out of their bun. They fell, unheeded, onto her red face.

"Sorry, Majesty, but I just can't let you in. It's--" She got cut off when a healer inside cursed loudly. Mel screamed. The voices inside fell silent as the healer spoke in a hushed voice, thought Vidanric couldn't make out the words. With a shake of her head, the woman blocking the King out turned and closed to sturdy oak doors. Vidanric swore.

Russav leaned against the opposite wall, powerful arms crossed as he watched his cousin through narrowed eyes. Usually Vidanric was so calm and collected, never showing this much emotion. Now he prowled the hallway like an angry lion, running his fingers through his hair every couple seconds.

"Easy, Danric," Russav said reassuringly. "She's a strong woman, she'll be just fine."

Vidanric swung to face him, struggling to hide the distraught look in his eyes. "But what if she isn't?" He demanded. The doors open and the healer stepped into the hallway.

Both men rushed forward to confront her, bombarding the worn woman with questions. A baby's cry came from within the chamber. Vidanric smiled with relief and made to enter the room, but the healer grabbed his arm. He looked at her askance, shifting his weight impatiently.

"One moment, my lord," the healer woman ordained quietly. Russav frowned and returned to his spot at the wall. Danric's heart skipped a beat as the healer lowered her voice. "Her Majesty is not well," she cautioned. "Don't…Get her too excited. Just go in there as if you know nothing is wrong. I suggest you name the baby as soon as possible."

Suddenly a roaring noise engulfed Vidanric. He tried to nod, but couldn't. With much effort, he broke away from the healer's prudent grip on his elbow and stumbled into the birthing room. All was silent but the baby's cries.

"A baby boy, Danric," Mel whispered hoarsely. She was pale and exhausted, and though she sweated profusely, shivers wracked her slight frame. 

Mutely Vidanric went to her side and looked at the squirming bundle in her arms. It indeed was a baby boy. His face was pink and puckered from crying, but he was without a doubt their child. Already he had a trace of fair blond hair and high cheekbones, just like his father. However, he had inherited his mother's deep blue eyes, though it was hard for Danric to tell, for the child could barely lift his eyelids.

When Danric leaned over to run his finger over the baby's cheek, the enfant attempted a smile and gurgled happily, clenching a fist. Danric face lost its tension, for just a moment. Mel coughed weakly, and the healer rushed to her side. Her eyes were grim.

Danric gripped his wife's hands helplessly, face drawn in worry. The healer hovered over Mel for several minutes, giving her assistants various orders. Finally she moved away, and as she left the room, Danric saw tears gathering in her eyes. She shook her head sadly at him, silently confirming his worst fears.

Mel was going to die.

Blindly he ordered all of the servants out of the room. The hesitated only for a moment, seeing his desperation. When they had all left, Vidanric sat down on a stool next to Mel's bed, holding her hand and stroking her face.

"Let's name him Alaraec," She said decidedly. Danric knew, from the tone of her voice, that she realized her fate and was resigned to it. He bit his lip.

"Alaraec is fine." His voice cracked and squeaked as he fought tears. "Oh god, Mel. I love you so much!" He cradled her head in his hands and hugged her, suppressing sobs.

__

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder  
You get your fill to eat  
But always keep that hunger  
May you never take one single breath for granted  
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed  
I hope you still feel small  
When you stand by the ocean  
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens  
Promise me you'll give fate a fighting chance  


Mel kissed him softly and asked him to look at her. He obliged, and when he looked into her eyes, saw no fear or anger or despair. Only comfort and love.

"You'll be fine, Danric," she told him, and finally he realized why she was so calm. Comforting him was the only way she could keep from despairing herself. 

__

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance  
I hope you dance

"No, Mel," Vidanric begged. "Don't go. Keep fighting…It comes naturally to you!"

__

She gave him a watery smile and stroked his cheek. Now her eyes were filling with tears. They glittered sadly as she fought for her next breath.

__

"I want you to keep being happy," she instructed, her voice now battling the whine of tears. "I want you to race horses. Ride your gray, always." She laughed softly, but it quickly turned into a heaving cough.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance  
Never settle for the path of least resistance  
Living might mean taking chances  
But they're worth taking  
Loving might be a mistake  
But it's worth making  


Vidanric fought from trembling as he nodded, numb with grief. He kissed her in consolation and she smiled weakly.

"I want you to keep making silly bets with Russav. I always laugh when I remember how I used to know you as a fop only interested in gambling and clothes. Remember--" She cut off abruptly when a wave of cold swept over her, and was silent for a few moments as her teeth chattered. "Remember when you and Russav made that bet on who could find me first?"

"I remember." Russav's low voice came from behind Vidanric. He, Tamara, Bran, and Nee had all come in silently. They lined up around Mel's bed somberly, faces grave.

Mel took another shuddering breath. "And Danric, I want you to keep caring about your clothes and court fashion. Never have I seen a man so aware of how to look nice. But, above all things Vidanric, I hope you dance. You're such a good dancer, don't forget that. You have so much to give…You deserve love. Dance, Danric. Be happy…" She started coughing weakly again and couldn't stop. 

Vidanric could no longer stop the tears from flowing. He lowered his head next to hers and clutched her hands. "No…" He whispered hopelessly. Behind him, one of the women uttered a small sob. Russav clutched his shoulder, but he gave no notice.

__

Don't let some hell bent heart  
Leave you bitter  
When you come close to selling out  
Reconsider  
Give the heavens above  
More than just a passing glance  


Slowly Mel's coughs receded. Her breathing slowed and after several lugubrious moments, it stopped. Danric's heart wrenched in his chest and he choked on a despondent wail.

Finally Vidanric raised his head and looked at the desolated family members behind him. Tears gleamed in Russav's eyes, and the women cried in earnest. Bran looked utterly lost and confused.

After a protracted amount of time in which the sadness in the room weighed down on everyone's hearts, Nee abruptly stopped sobbing and looked in wonder at the bundle on Mel's bed. In his anguish, Vidanric had almost forgotten that Alaraec lay asleep on Mel's torso. He picked up his child and held him protectively to his chest. Morosely he realized that his son would grow up never knowing his mother. Nee stroked Alaraec's soft head gently with a shaking finger.

"You'll always have some of Mel in him," she consoled tenderly. Vidanric kissed Alaraec's head meekly. And suddenly he realized all of what Mel had been saying before she died. He had a new beginning here, and it started with their son.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Courtiers and commoners alike reeled with the death of their beloved queen. So many attended her funeral that the doors to the chapel had to be opened, and mages were called in to help the noise travel outside to the masses of people.

Through it all Vidanric sat alone with Alaraec. Both were dressed sedately in black, which set off both father and son's light hair. If anyone commented on Vidanric's recluse, he paid no heed.

Every night there were gatherings to mourn Mel's death. It was much like a funeral rite--there were no refreshments, and the musicians didn't play. People would stand in front of the room, by the Goldenwood that was Flauvic, and tell stories about Mel, or thank her memory for something she had done, or simply express their remorse. 

On the third night of these gatherings, Russav spotted Vidanric sitting alone with Alaraec and evading sympathizers. He grimaced and approached the dismal musicians, who hadn't played for Court in over a week. No one saw the Duke of Savona give them the order to play, which they met with surprise. Never before had music been played during mourning.

Nevertheless, they started playing a somewhat sad, slow song. The assembled courtiers gasped in shock. Russav approached his cousin, who seemed purposely oblivious to it all.

"You promised Mel that you would be happy," he said in a low voice. Vidanric bit his lip.

"I can't," he whispered. "There's no other woman that I could possibly--"

"Take the baby, Tamara," Russav asked his wife firmly, and took Vidanric by the arm.

The courtiers were milling restlessly in a circle, still confused and shocked by the playing of music at such a sad gathering. Russav led Danric to Nee, who silently remembered Mel's parting wishes, and without hesitation took the king's hands.

Vidanric didn't quite smile, but the expression in his eyes were grateful as the nobles arranged themselves in a ring around the dancing couple.

__

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance  
I hope you dance  
(Time is a real and constant motion always)  
I hope you dance  
(Rolling us along)  
I hope you dance  
(Tell me who)  
I hope you dance  
(Wants to look back on their youth and wonder)  
(Where those years have gone)  


No one but Bran, Tamara, Nee, and Russav knew what was going on. Slowly the others started to relax as the pained expression that had plagued their king since his wife's death left his face, and finally he smiled.

__

I hope you still feel small  
When you stand by the ocean  
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens  
Promise me you'll give fate a fighting chance  
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance  
Dance  



End file.
